Their Fondest Memory of Father
by Durbe the Barian
Summary: Little Trey is sick with a cold and Byron Arclight spends some time with his youngest. - For Maiya.


**Zexal Oneshot**

**Their Fondest Memory of Father**

**Family**

**Byron Arclight/Trey/Chris/Thomas**

**Little Trey is sick with a cold and Byron Arclight spends some time with his youngest. - For Maiya.**

**(I don't own Zexal or 'Go to Sleep.' Zexal belongs to the writers, go to sleep belongs to Phil Rosenthal.)**

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Their Fondest Memory of Father

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Chris pulled the thermometer out of Michael's mouth. "Well, your temperature's going down," he said. "You probably just need to sleep it off.

Michael let out a little sneeze. The nine-year-old member of the Arclight family was bedridden with a nasty cold. Same went for the middle brother, Thomas. In hindsight, going outside without their coats on was probably not the best idea. Especially not in the middle of winter.

With a light sniffle, he pulled his warm and fluffy blanket up to his shoulders and closed his eyes. "Okay," he squeaked.

Chris simply gave him a light smile before the door to Michael's room opened up. Then both boys turned around. Their father was standing in the doorway, his bright smile on his face. "Otou-san," Chris said softly.

"Tou-sama," Michael breathed, hiding the lower part of his face under his blanket.

Byron Arclight let out a light chuckle before walking up to his sons. Then he bent down and felt his youngest's forehead. "Looks like your temperature's going down, Michael," he reported.

Michael nodded feebly. "Y-Yes," he squeaked. "How's Thomas?"

Thomas. The other cold victim. He didn't get it as badly as Michael, but he still didn't approve of going to bed before five.

Byron gave his son a smile. "He's fine," he reported. "His fever's gone down a little bit and he's sound asleep."

Michael smiled under the blanket. "That's good to hear," he said quietly, closing his eyes slowly.

Byron chuckled again at his son's quiet nature. Then he looked over to Chris. His eldest boy looked ready to fall asleep, as proven by him rubbing his eyes when he believed his father to be looking elsewhere. Made sense, too. Chris had stayed up for an entire night, making sure that Michael was comfortable while Byron handled the more 'energetic' cold victim.

"Chris, why don't you go to sleep?" Byron asked.

Chris quickly pulled his hands away from his face and looked at his father. "What?" he asked. (Or rather, yawned.)

"You're tired," Byron observed. "So how about you get to bed, okay? I'll keep an eye on Thomas and Michael."

"But-" Chris began.

"Just go to sleep, Chris," Michael said from underneath his blanket. "I'll be fine. You said so yourself."

Chris could no longer argue. With a sigh – which was closer to a yawn – he walked over to his father him a hug. "Okay," he said. "Goodnight, Father."

"Goodnight, Chris," Byron said. "Have a good night's sleep."

Then Chris broke the hug and brushed Michael's bangs away from his face. "Get some sleep too, Michael."

"Okay. Goodnight, Brother," Michael said.

Then Chris pulled himself away and started for his room, making sure to close Michael's door behind him.

* * *

Silence filled the room. Byron was resting in the rocking chair beside the bed. Michael had tried to sleep, or at the very least, pretend, but with his father in the room, that proved to be futile. Even more so when his father stroked his tiny face. His eyes shot open with surprise and he looked up to Byron, who's aged face was bearing a smile. "Otou-sama," he breathed.

Byron chuckled. He didn't say a word, but then again, he didn't have to. His son understood him regardless.

Michael directed his gaze elsewhere for a moment, briefly tightening his grip on the blanket. "O-Otou-sama?" he asked.

"Is there something wrong, Michael?" Byron asked.

Michael shook his head. "May I...ask you for a favor?"

Byron smiled softly. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No, it's not that." He averted his eyes again. "Would you...would you...sing me a lullaby? Like Okaa-san used to?"

"You sure about that?" Byron asked. "I can't sing the way she can."

Michael nodded his affirmation.

Byron's smile increased for a moment before he gently lifted his little son out of bed. While Trey was nine years old, he hardly looked it, being closer in size to a 5 or 6 year old. Chris, who was almost 14, was the same way. His appearance and mannerisms made people often assume he was 16 to 17 years old. The same applied to Thomas. 11 years old, yet people thought he was 8 for some crazy reason.

Looking back, Byron had yet to see someone actually get his sons' ages right. He was starting to wonder if they ever would, what with their personalities and all.

Byron sat back down in the rocking chair and sat Michael on his lap. Then he began to slowly rock back and forth. The small lullaby that their mother had used to sing to the Arclight boys began to fill the room.

"**_Deep in the shadows, in their cave_**

_**Three playful lions misbehave.**_

_**Soon they'll grow tired, lay in a heap**_

_**Mother will watch them go to sleep.**_

Michael smiled as his father sang, his deep notes pulling at the little boy's heartstrings in so many ways.

_**High in an oak tree, safe in a nest**_

_**Four tiny robins take their nest**_

_**Mother beside them, sweetly they peep**_

_**Everything is falling. Go to sleep.**_

The little redhead in Byron's arms soon began to nod off. He futilely fought against sleep, hoping to hear the song to the end, but it was off little use.

_**Stars are shining, day is done**_

_**Close your eyes 'till morning sun**_

The door to Michael's bedroom then opened a crack. Byron knew what that meant, but he chose to ignore it. At least, for that moment.

_**Then you'll awaken from slumber deep**_

_**But 'till the morning, go to sleep."**_

The song now finished, he looked down to his smallest son. Michael was sound asleep and breathing like a little baby. A smile appeared on Byron's face as he got out of the rocking chair and laid Michael in his bed again. Then he pulled the blanket over his tiny frame and gave his son a kiss on the forehead. "Good night, Michael," he whispered.

He stood tall and lightly chuckled.

A light sneeze could be heard near the door.

Then Byron turned around and opened the door, startling the two who were listening in. Thomas was in his pajamas, which, at that time, composed of a yellow shirt with a puppet on the front and a pair of black pants. Chris, on the other hand, had simply taken off his vest and necklace (Unless someone can think of a better word.) and untucked his shirt. "And why aren't the two of you asleep?" Byron asked. "Or at least in your pajamas?" He directed this question to his oldest son, who's face adopted a light pink tint.

Thomas grunted like the child he was and turned away. "Sorry, Otou-san," Chris said, placing his hands on Thomas' small shoulders.

Byron chuckled. "I take it the two of you want lullabies too?" he asked.

Neither boy answered, though their bright red faces gave him his answer.

"Alright," he said. "But get into bed. Now."

Both boys nodded, then Thomas raced back into his bedroom. Chris remained still for a moment longer before his father's stern face made him race to his bedroom faster than Thomas.

Byron then let out a bout of laughter.

His boys had their quirks, no doubt about that. They were all prodigies in their own rights, something they more than likely inherited from their father. But in situations such as that, they were just plain adorable.

It might have embarrassed them to have those sides of themselves revealed to anybody for any reason, it helped remind Byron that his boys were still boys.

They still had a future waiting for them.

A future they would eventually reach together. But until the day came when they reached it, he'd be there for them in any way he could.

Even if it was something as simple as singing them lullabies.

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**D.T.B: My first Arclight family oneshot. :) **

**So. Explanation time. **

**I wrote this for the cousin of a friend of mine. She's been having some problems and I wanted to do something to help. But seeing as how we don't live anywhere near each other, this was the best I could do. I hope she likes it.**


End file.
